


Words

by astralgabriel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: :), Angst, M/M, Mythology - Freeform, Prayer, Sad, Songfic, fall - Freeform, happy ending??, set at the start of season 9, this suddenly became more relevant after metafiction, yeah - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-17
Updated: 2014-04-17
Packaged: 2018-01-19 18:59:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 574
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1480522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astralgabriel/pseuds/astralgabriel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I never said thank you. Not once. I’m really sorry for that. Gabriel, I’m sorry. There’s so much I want to say to you, that I never got chance- no, bothered to, before. I’m not going to make excuses. You don’t deserve excuses. I- If you’d have hung around a bit longer, you’d’ve been proud, Gabriel. I like to think so, anyway."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by Words // Skylar Grey
> 
> want to fully understand the story?? try listening to that as you read :)

Sam rubbed his hands together, his breath condensing in front of his face. Thin wisps of water vapour floated up past his eyes, past the frost coated trees and tiny snowflakes. Sam sighed, looking out across the white road, blowing into his hands.

“I, uh… I came out here to thank you. Same old.” Sam shivered, wrapping the scarf around his neck a third time as a red hue rose on his cheeks and nose. “I thought, maybe, with the whole frost giant thing, that maybe you’ll hear me this time.” Sam paused, and snorted at himself as nothing happened. “I’m being stupid.

“But I- On the off chance that you can actually hear me, thank you. For everything. You tried to help, Gabriel, and at the time, it just felt like you were trying to screw us over, but I get it now. I understand.” Sam pushed his hair back off his face, damp from the snow, and laughed. How pathetic must he seem right now? Years had gone, and all Sam had as proof was mistakes and regrets. All he’d ever had were mistakes and regrets. He was fundamentally built from mistakes and regrets. Nothing else.

“I know you’re gone – I’m not that far gone. Not yet. You would’ve whipped us into shape if you were here. Messed with us for screwing up Heaven, gave us cryptic hints on what to do. I just- Sometimes, sometimes I like to pretend you’re here. Like you’re being an ass, and pretending that you don’t care, and-“ Sam stopped, his voice catching. Why was he doing this? Was he desperate for a miracle? Was he hoping?

Praying.

He was praying, he realised. He was praying to a dead archangel, when Heaven had fallen. He was desperate, he was hoping and he was praying.

“I never said thank you. Not once. I’m really sorry for that. Gabriel, I’m sorry. There’s so much I want to say to you, that I never got chance- no, bothered to, before. I’m not going to make excuses. You don’t deserve excuses. I- If you’d have hung around a bit longer, you’d’ve been proud, Gabriel. I like to think so, anyway.

“I mean, you were right all along. I said yes, and- and because of you, we ended it all. The Apocalypse. That was you, Gabriel. That- I’m sorry.” Sam took a moment to compose himself, to smooth the trembles from his voice, and wipe his eyes dry. The snowflakes start sticking to his eyelashes again.

“I guess I just like to pretend you can hear me. That somehow, we got a miracle. Makes it all easier, I guess, the whole thing with Heaven and Cas. Easier to cope with, because it’s hard. So, thanks, you know, for still being here, even when you’re not. Just, thank you.”

Sam paused for a moment, waiting for something, anything to happen. The silence grew deafening, but everything else was still. He was the only thing living and breathing out there. Just him and the snow. His heart grew a little heavier as his feet dragged through the snow, back to the motel room. He wouldn’t give up, that much he knew, but it still knocked him back each time nothing happened.

Still made him question if there was even a God to grant miracles anymore.

Sam never saw the feather that came to rest on the Impala bonnet, warm and small and golden.


End file.
